Of Shire Ponies and Other Amphibians
by apprentice wordsmith
Summary: On a hot day, the Brandywine River is the perfect place to cool off. Except if you're a pony, and your owner keeps trying to drown you. A post-quest one-shot featuring Merry and Pippin, in which Merry tries to teach a horse to dog-paddle and it goes about as well as you'd expect. No slash, sex, profanity, or violence.


Author's note: I know, I know… Another horse-related fic. I can't help it; this is what popped into my head. This one is based on true events that I transplanted into the Shire, because, really, who doesn't love our favorite hobbit cousins?

Of Shire Ponies and Other Amphibians

The Brandywine River was a large, swift-flowing ribbon of water by the time it snaked through Buckland on its way to the Sea. Most hobbits avoided even the shallow parts, though a few brave souls had been known to venture out for a swim or a boat ride.

And then there was Merry. Merry, wonderful, practical Merry, who had somehow gotten it into his head to teach his new pony to swim. Pippin had thought it was a joke at first.

"What do you mean; you want to teach Cricket to swim? All ponies know how to do that."

"But, I don't think she does. Cricket came from Hobbiton; none of the folk there would have let her near the water, even if there was a big enough pond for it. If she's going to be put out to pasture with the rest, I want to make sure she'll be all right."

He had a point there. Saruman's ruffians had been driven out of the Shire, and the king's peace reigned, so Buckland was basically safe from the machinations of two-legged creatures. But the Brandybuck ponies were allowed to run wild much of the time, and every year, they lost one or two of their animals to the elements. Cricket was a fine little pony, and possibly in foal to Merry's Rohirric stallion, Stybba. Pippin knew that Merry would be devastated if anything happened to the pretty black mare or her baby.

Besides, swimming the ponies would get them away from Brandy Hall for an afternoon, which was probably Merry's real intent. The whole family- and many hangers-on- had gathered for the Midsummer celebration, including more than a few ambitious matrons and their daughters, most of whom had an eye for the Master's only son. Rosamund Banks and her daughter Lily were the worst of the lot, though Opal Tunnelly was also in the running for the 'Most Insipid Hobbit Lass' award. Pippin had been keeping score, and if Merry hadn't been so frustrated by the whole situation, he might have asked his cousin to wager on which lass would make a greater fool of herself by the end of the visit.

Pippin was also the target of many flirtatious looks and feminine schemes, but, as he wasn't of age yet, the plots didn't have the same predatory intensity. His poor cousin had to deal with those, so Pippin was inclined to do anything he could to keep Merry sane and happy, at least until they could go back to the house at Crickhollow. If that meant teaching a horse to swim, so be it. In this heat, it might even be a blessing.

oOoOoOo

There were a few places on the river that were suitable for swimming, whether the participants were four-legged or two-legged. Merry and Pippin headed for the Trout Pond, a place where no one in living memory had even seen a trout, much less caught one. Supposedly, the place had been named by a distant Brandybuck ancestor. The old hobbit, who never seemed to have a name- at least not that Pippin had ever heard- had been fishing in the Trout Pond when his prize pulled him right off the bank and into the water. Merry swore up and down the story was true. Pippin suspected that its original teller had been smoking bad pipe-weed when he made it up.

But the Trout Pond's attractions had nothing to do with fish. Not today, at least. They were going there because it was half an hour's ride from the Hall, too far away for any picnickers who would have been rather surprised to have their outing interrupted by a couple of splashing ponies. More importantly, it was too far for any nosy lasses who might spy on them. If Pippin was going to make a fool of himself on horseback, he didn't want any witnesses. Merry didn't count. They had been through too much for Pippin to worry if his cousin saw him covered in mud or getting dumped on the ground by his pony.

Of course, Pippin would rather this outing went smoothly, so he had planned ahead. He carried his sword, as well as food and a set of clean clothes in his saddlebags. And, even though there were any number of ponies at the Hall that he could have borrowed, he had chosen to ride Ranger, the pony he had brought back from the Quest. The bay gelding was quite well-trained and had a magnificent turn of speed, but most importantly, he was easy-going and sensible, even in new situations.

The hope was that Ranger would be a calming influence on Cricket, who was extremely smart, but a bit more high-strung than most Shire ponies. Even now, as they trotted along the path toward the pond, the black mare continued to look around distractedly, occasionally bumping into Ranger and Pippin. Merry kept his seat easily, despite his mount's antics. After his experiences with the Rohirrim and their warhorses, handling a jumpy Shire pony was probably a walk in the woods for Merry.

Cricket's theatrics notwithstanding, the cousins arrived at the Trout Pond without incident. They dismounted and removed the ponies' saddles, since the leather would stiffen if it got wet. Pippin carefully set the gear in a pile while Merry held the ponies, gently soothing Cricket, who skittered around nervously, upset by the change in routine.

Once Cricket had settled, Merry handed Ranger back to Pippin and vaulted onto Cricket's back. Pippin followed suit, thankful that Ranger was a little more tractable than his companion.

At their riders' encouraging, both ponies made their way down the low bank and waded out into the pond. Ranger seemed totally unconcerned that he was imitating a fish, but Cricket was still snorting and fidgeting, and Pippin was beginning to think Merry was right. Maybe Cricket had never done this before. And if that was the case, exactly how _did_ one go about teaching a horse to swim?

Pippin was imagining Cricket doing the backstroke when the little mare decided enough was enough. She flattened her ears and gave a little hop, trying to unseat her rider. Merry gave a shout and slapped Cricket on the neck, not hard, but enough to get her attention.

Startled at the sound, Cricket took a flying leap forward, carrying herself and a very surprised Merry out into the middle of the pond. There was a gigantic splash and she vanished under the water.

She was gone! Merry floated on the surface, momentarily stunned by the sudden disappearance of his mount.

"Pull up! Pull, so she knows which way is up!"

It wasn't the most coherent thing Pippin had ever said, but, at the sound of his voice, Merry came to his senses and gave a sharp tug on the reins. Pippin never knew if it made a difference, but Cricket suddenly erupted from the water, right underneath Merry. His cousin scrambled to regain his seat at the little mare struck out for the shore, snorting and sputtering like, well, like someone had tried to drown her.

Pippin nudged Ranger and the gelding happily surged up onto the bank, coming up beside Cricket. The black mare shook herself and stood perfectly still, probably hoping the ground wouldn't fall out from under her again. Merry slid off her back and began checking her over, running a hand down each leg, and examining her for any injuries. He was soaking wet and pale, but didn't even seem to notice.

"There must be a drop-off! We're lucky she didn't break a leg!" Merry wasn't quite panicking, but it was close.

If Merry- or Cricket- had been hurt, Pippin would have let that remark slide, but since both looked to be unscathed, he had to say something.

"We? Who's this 'we'? I seem to remember that _you_ wanted to go swimming," he teased as he dismounted and caught Cricket's reins, so Merry could finish reassuring himself that the pony was unhurt. His cousin straightened up and stared at him. Pippin kept the smile on his face, so Merry would know he was joking, and added, a little more seriously, "She's fine, Merry. Probably a little surprised, but not hurt."

Merry nodded. "I know. Only, we're here because I wanted to keep her safe, not drown her in the Brandywine."

Pippin couldn't think of a reply that didn't sound patronizing, so he kept silent, letting his cousin catch his breath. After a moment, Merry squared his shoulders and said, "Well, there's nothing for it. If I don't take her back in the water, she might be scared of it for life," and swung back up onto Cricket.

"I'll give you a lead," Pippin replied, hopping up on Ranger and nudging him back into the pond. With a little luck, Cricket would follow the other pony.

She did, albeit with Merry's encouragement. Both ponies were quite content to splash around in the shallow area near the bank, but when Merry turned Cricket toward the deeper water, she hesitated. Pippin was sure they were going to have a repeat of the pony's earlier antics, but Merry stayed calm and gently urged her forward.

Cricket finally stepped off the lake bottom and began to swim. This time, she didn't sink, although she didn't look very happy either. Pippin let himself breathe again, now that he knew Merry was safe, and turned his attention back to Ranger, who was eyeing a nearby frog like he wanted to play with it.

They spent a few minutes letting both ponies swim around, paw at the water, and nibble at the grass growing on the shore. Cricket slowly relaxed and even seemed to being enjoying herself as Merry announced that all this excitement was making him hungry.

It was only a moment's work to dig out their saddlebags and put together a small snack, just something to tide them over until teatime. Dry clothes were also a must, since riding back to the Hall in squelching wet trousers would be extremely uncomfortable, at least, according to Merry. Pippin refrained from asking if Merry had personal experience or if he was simply recalling someone else's mishap.

As they rode home, Pippin couldn't resist teasing his cousin. "I told you so," he said jauntily. "That pony knew how to swim perfectly well. She probably thought you were getting in the way. All that worry for nothing," he added, shaking his head ruefully, trying and failing to hide his grin.

"Well, it worked, didn't it?" Merry demanded. "Now we know Cricket can swim, all of us are much cooler than we started out, and we got away from Rosamund for the afternoon."

Pippin laughed. It was a rare occasion indeed when he was more level-headed than Merry, and he wanted to enjoy every second of it. Sometimes, it just felt good to be right.

oOoOoOo

Author's note: Poor Cricket. Maybe my next story will be about how she gets her revenge on Merry…

The whole 'almost drowning a horse' thing actually happened to a person I know. It was hilarious, mostly because no one got hurt and the horse in question loves the water, even now, years later.

I hope everyone got a kick out of this, because I sure enjoyed writing it (I was trying to distract myself from the ridiculously hot weather and lack of air conditioning, so something water-related was a must). Thanks for reading!


End file.
